


Love is to be reinvented; that much is clear.

by Eufry



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eufry/pseuds/Eufry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 things Felicity can't stand + 1 thing Oliver can't stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is to be reinvented; that much is clear.

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to [rikke_leonhart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rikke_leonhart/pseuds/Rikke_Leonhart) for beta-ing this, her support, the fact that she's still not getting tired of my Olicity obsession, and also, for being the best.
> 
> Enjoy!

**1**.

Windows Vista is, by far, one of the aspects that Felicity dreads the most about her job as an IT specialist. 

Queen Consolidated might be a company ahead of many others in terms of technological progress, but apparently no one got the memo that Vista was the spawn of Satan and that it needed to be destroyed.

So she is left with the consequences of that - she has a hard time calling it that, but she tries - _joke_ of an operating system, and whenever people ask her "But why do you hate Vista so much?" she wants to throw every single DVD box set of the IT crowd she has in her living room at their faces.

(She could explain it properly, but she finds she doesn't have the time, and she gets sidetracked easily.)

When Oliver is lying on a really cold, almost morguey-looking examination table in the basement of his night club (she cringes at the security pad on her way in, holding Oliver's incredible heavy shins while John Diggle is hauling him up by his shoulders, and fine, he's probably the one doing most of the lifting) and Diggle tells her he's stable, she takes a big, calming breath and looks around to find a chair to collapse on.

She finds there are a lot of arrows in there. Which shouldn't be very surprising, really. And then she sees some monitors and her feet take her to the computers Oliver Queen owns and she's not even ashamed when she sits down in a really uncomfortable chair (she should do something about that) and starts diving into his settings.

She hears Diggle humming behind her, and she finds his presence is soothing, not irritating, and she immediately thinks "I can work with that" and shakes her head slightly. She is not going to join those two crazy Clark Kent wannabes. Nope.

She hits a few keys and then gasps audibly and Diggle is by her side in a second.

"What? What's wrong? Did the police find some incriminating evidence?" He asks, clearly in super soldier mode, and Felicity shakes her head frenetically, her ponytail bouncing against his arm.

"No no, it's fine it's just… He's running a modified OS that he installed himself, but it's originally Vista. He didn't even bother to erase most of the code." She spits the offending words and tries to contain the disdain in her voice as much as she can. Which isn't much. It's been a stressful day, she's not particularly looking to appear like she doesn't have a serious case of word vomit.

Diggle ostensibly relaxes next to her, and she sees the hint of a smile as he lifts his eyes to the ceiling. "Well, as long as he's not using IE to research the bad guys, I guess." He says calmly, and Felicity shoots him the biggest grin she can muster with still shaking hands and a huge blood stain on the front of her shirt.

"I like a man who can sass me." She adds lightly and sees Diggle smile properly for the first time. She almost fist pumps in victory.

"It's a good thing we're stuck here until the prodigal son wakes up, then." He says, his eyes crinkled, and patting her shoulder in a friendly manner.

She nods, and then thinks for a few seconds before looking up at him again. "Okay, can I do something extremely strange and probably rude?" She asks, almost batting her eyelashes, and Diggle shrugs good-naturedly. "Felicity, you saved Oliver's life so far. I think as long as you don't go running to the police, you can do anything you want."

She doesn't know why, or how, but she thinks Diggle is one Clark Kent wannabe she doesn't want to say no to if he ever asks for her help. Which could get her into a shit ton of trouble. Probably.

"John Diggle, you are a saint." She smiles up at him, cracks her fingers once, and turns back to Oliver's computers. "I'm getting some new computers for this super secret lair. This old junk is going into one Felicity Smoak's basement for parts; and some sleek Lenovo screens are replacing it."

Diggle chuckles all the way back to Oliver's side, and she can't help but bounce a little in the overly stiff chair.

Later, when Oliver is staring down at her, looking tired beyond his years and with a blanket barely covering his shoulders, she's trying really hard to focus on his face and not his torso where there is still dry blood smeared in places. As soon as she utters the word "No" she does her best not to flinch.

"Then why'd you upgrade my system?!" He asks, and he looks so much like a grumpy cat, she really cannot help the rant that escapes her. It really did hurt her in her soul; she did mention how Vista is Pandemonium's OS, right?

**2**.

The day Felicity arrives to the foundry to find a stuffed kangaroo perched on one of her computers is the day she curses knowing Walter Steele and the fact that he is Oliver's ex-step-father and this is so _not_ funny.

She tells Oliver just that when she sees him walking towards her with the hint of a smug grin plastered on his face. She really did not know this side of Oliver and she's not sure she wants to. It looks almost foreign, to see him like that; to know that he is capable of really stupid jokes goes beyond her.

She supposes it means he's not afraid to show her that side of himself. Although right now she's not really focusing on that.

She makes a point of avoiding his gaze, avidly awaiting a reaction from her, and walks straight to her monitors, plucking the offensive toy from it and throwing it over her shoulder, not even looking at where it lands on the floor. 

She blatantly ignores Oliver's chuckles as he crosses his arms, leaning against her desk and looking sideways at her starting up her computers. 

"It's _kind_ of funny." He says, nudging her chair with his foot. 

She huffs, glares at him, and turns back to the monitor farthest from him. 

"It is seriously not nice to mock my genuine dislike of kangaroos, and Walter will pay for this." She mumbles, and Oliver is looking at her like she's some sort of cute but clueless puppy and it's incredibly irritating. 

After a minute of her typing angrily in silence, and him still looking unbelievably amused and in no rush to remove his behind from her desk, she can't help herself.

"How did this even come about, I mean, what, you discuss QC stocks and oh, by the way, Felicity really hates kangaroos, oh, and once she propositioned me without meaning to, so about those budget cuts in the Applied Sciences division, when should we hold that meeting?" She asks, and realises a second too late that Oliver's eyes widen slightly and he looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh.

"You propositioned Walter?" He finally says and he purses his lips at her face becoming crimson and her hands coming up to give her something to hide behind.

"Oh god, why can't I ever just _shut_ _up_?" She moans, and just then she hears Dig's footsteps on the metallic stairs; they stop just a few meters from her.

"What's that?" He asks, picking up the discarded kangaroo, and Oliver says "Felicity's worst nightmare" at the same time she mutters "Oliver's poor idea of a joke" and then Dig is laughing his head off at the way Felicity tries - and fails - to shove a laughing Oliver off of her desk.

**3 + 4**.

There are two things in life that Felicity enjoys more than anything in the world: taking computers apart, and a hot shower after a long, long day.

There are two things in life that Felicity cannot stand and that make her so furious she wants to break her glasses in two: men who think she is intellectually challenged and talk to her in the most condescending of tones, and not being able to solve a mystery that she _knows_ can be solved.

It just so happens that she let it slip to Diggle that taking computers apart is probably the most calming and fulfilling of pastimes; and once, after a particularly long night of helping Oliver through the comms and having to tell him to slow down on the parkour ("it's almost as if you're shouting the word parkour every time you grunt-land-roll on a rooftop. For the love of-" "Felicity!"), she went on a nine minute long rant about the benefits of a hot shower. Spinning leisurely on her chair as she watched Oliver trying to remove his leather gloves - and seemingly having some trouble with it as she broached the topic of shower gels versus soap bars and which one is less likely to slip out of your hands while lathering - she only stopped when Oliver cleared his throat and walked rapidly towards the small bathroom at the back of the foundry, the back of his ears bright red.

She doesn't tell either one of them about the things that set her off; she rants a lot, but she's not one to advertise how easy it is to set her off. Not that she doesn't trust them; she's just keeping a safe distance from oversharing. (She knows she doesn't always succeed.)

Except today it's the least of her worries; she has had the worst of days, running around QC all day and having to help out the IT department even though she technically doesn't work there anymore. They're understaffed and there was an emergency.

When she finally comes back up to Oliver's office, he's waiting for her near her desk, and tells her he needs her help. It turns out of all the events they have to conspicuously blend into, this one isn't a gala or a cocktail party. No, this one is the grand opening of the new branch of a certain very famous computer brand here in Starling City and Felicity's eyes are bulging out of her face, she's sure, because Oliver did not just ask her to come along with her and steal the company's entire financial records off of their private servers.

When Oliver realises she's still processing this, he tells her why they have to do this and sits her down in her chair and she's almost glaring at him. Nevermind the fact that she likes those computers, she really thought the company was a legitimate one. She isn't sure why she's so conflicted about this, it shouldn't surprise her - the past CEOs of both Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated weren't, after all, that exemplary when it came to legitimate businesses.

She lets out a very long sigh, and slowly lowers herself onto her desk, resting her chin on her folded arms, and if she looks like a little pathetic right now, slumped over and pouting, she doesn't care. She's tired, and the prospect of wearing heels until late into the night is not really appealing right now.

"I'm sorry, Felicity, but I need you." Oliver's voice is very soft, and he rests his hand on her forearm for a second, head tilted towards her, and she knows she can't refuse, so she nods slowly, and he tells her he'll pick her up in a few hours at her place; don't be late, don't forget your tablet, the usual.

This day just keeps getting better.

She's ready when Oliver shows up - right on time, and it's a little bit annoying that he manages that when he's late for _everything_ else - and she tried her best to make an effort and dress up and he tells her so in a gently uttered compliment on their way to his car. She cracks a joke about him not bringing his motorcycle and points to the slit in her dress and asks if it's even possible to ride one of those Amazon-style.

He smirks at her and shakes his head, and his face stays that way until they arrive at the opening. 

They have a small time frame to get the job done - Diggle's posing as security - except they have to wait before they can slip out unnoticed and that means having to do small talk.

Between Oliver's taciturn tendencies and the way he clenches his jaw and tries not to let go of a punch every time someone cracks a joke about him being in real-life Survivor, and her own tendencies to babble uncontrollably until Oliver's jaw clenches again - this time from trying not to laugh as she inadvertently tells the CFO of the company how much money they could make if they invested in a better developing team for their multicores-based hardware that's supposed to come out in two years - they really could make a better team than this. But it works. For now.

Until a few gentlemen corner them, and apparently it's the CEO and two other important men, and she knows she has to shut up, and also, she might throw up, because this is the freakin' _CEO_. His face is everywhere at this point.

Oliver is chatting amiably, and she thinks, he's got this, there's no reason to panic, until she hears the end of a sentence, much clearer to her ears, like it popped the bubble she was in. Because they're talking about her and if her wrist goes limp and she almost drops the champagne flute she's holding, her mouth agape, it's totally justified.

Oliver's hand comes up to cup her elbow, and she feels hot tears rushing to her eyes, so she blinks rapidly and tries to suppress them, and the growing rage she feels spreading. She's all but shaking from it once Oliver excuses himself politely, dragging her away and he takes a deep breath before taking her other arm in his hand, leaning forward so his eyes are at her level.

"That guy is a _jerk_ , Felicity." He rubs his thumbs on the inside of her elbows, almost absently, but her mouth is still set in a frown, and she still feels like she's been punched in the gut.

"I don't care. He just insinuated that I'm not only _a dumb blonde_ , but I'm apparently a burden, since you have to _explain_ all this techno-jargon to me." She mutters, teeth clenched, and Oliver sighs, looking incredibly pained.

Rationally, she knows it's not his fault. Well, not completely. He did make her his EA; but then she didn't fight him as much as she could have on it. Then again, what's more important, their nighttime job or daytime? It's the same debate all over again, and she already knows which side of her brain wins.

"I wouldn't be able to do _any_ of this without you, you know that." His eyebrows are still crunched up and she almost smiles because she just realises Oliver took it as hard as she did. It doesn't make it right, but it does help. A bit. "You're the one who has to explain all of this," he moves his head backwards, to indicate the room filled with executives and business magnates and investors, "to me, and it's a miracle you haven't given up on me yet." His voice is barely audible at this point, but she doesn't care.

He means it, all of it, is what matters, and her pride is still severely burnt, her ego trying to put some ice on it, but she can deal with it later. 

She'd hug him, right there, if she could; but they have a mission to do and she's the only one here with the skill set to do it. So, she sets her shoulders, puts a hand atop one of Oliver's and gives him a nod. "Thank you."

His eyes crinkle, and he stands up straight, getting the signal from Dig that they're in the clear.

The rest goes down as planned; she even manages to take down the firewalls permanently, and she feels no shame whatsoever when she tells Dig once they've joined him outside, and he gives her that big smile she likes, that says "You're the smartest idiot I know" and she could not be more pleased. Oliver is standing next to her, shaking his head at her antics, but gives her a small smile of his own and squeezes her arm gently before walking away. "I have a thing to take care of, I'll see you guys later." He says, and they would ask him what and where he's going if they were sure he'd answer; so they don't.

Dig drops her off at home and tells her again that she did a good job; she high fives him from the pavement, and he drives away, chuckling.

So, of course, the first thing she does once she closes her front door behind her is undress as quickly as she can and hop into the shower, where she stays way too long under the hot spray, with not a care in the world for how time passes outside of her bathroom. She's trying to get rid of all the tension and stress from the day, and if she lets a few tears slip from that stinging, hurtful remark, no one would be able to tell - not even her when she's done showering.

She's putting on an oversized t-shirt fresh out of her dryer and hums with contentment at how good she feels, when someone knocks at her door. She glances at her bedside clock and frowns, because, well, it's super late. She quickly grabs some shorts and puts them on on her way to the front door - and almost doesn't trip while hopping for half of it - and checks the peephole.

What the hell is Oliver doing here, is her first thought. The second is to pretend she's not here, except that would be stupid, because she just made a lot of noise knocking into her hallway table - it's too large, the hallway is too narrow, she's still too lazy to move it - so she sighs and opens the door.

"If you tell me I have to get dressed because we have _another_ order of business tonight, I will murder you." She says, crossing her arms and challenging him with a glare.

Oliver bites his lower lip, definitely amused at her.

"Nothing of the sort, Felicity, though I would love to know how you intend to kill me." He says, and she takes a step back because he practically sounds cheerful. Maybe he's a reverse Gremlin and turns into a Mogwai if exposed to death threats or something. She should look into it.

"Well, you can forget about quickly and painlessly." She deadpans and motions for him to come in. His arms are behind his back, and he kicks the door closed, so she immediately leans on the side to see what he's hiding.

He leans in the opposite direction, quirking an eyebrow at her. "Really? You're not even interested in knowing why I'm here?" He asks, and she shoots him a look. "Not really, I was hoping you had really expensive wine, but I'm starting to think that's not the case."

There's a pause, and she rolls her eyes, because he's clearly waiting for her to ask. "Okay, okay, hi, Oliver, why, what a surprise!" She walks over to her couch where she flops down on it unceremoniously, and he does the same, except he's apparently part Mogwai and part feline and he looks graceful as ever, a small smile still dancing on his face. "Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

He lets out a chuckle and brings his left arm around, holding a shiny chrome laptop and placing it between them on the couch.

"It's a little something that I thought might make you feel better." He says, eyes never leaving hers as she alternates between staring at his face and the laptop, clearly confused. "You seemed like you had a rough day, and I thought, what's better than one jerk CEO's laptop for you to play with as a way to cheer up?" 

She lets out a gasp after a beat, her eyes widening.

"Oliver, you _didn't_." She exclaims, and then grabs the laptop in glee and grins at him.

"For you? Of course I did."

She laughs, and she can't seem to stop because Oliver's scooted closer to her on the couch and they spend the next hours until dawn discussing what horrible things they could do to mess with the man, and Felicity finds out she could learn a lot from the Russian mafia. Around 5am, Felicity takes out her toolbox and Oliver is very amused that it's a _computer_ toolbox; she apparently doesn't own a regular one.

They fall asleep with her coffee table covered in computer parts, Felicity registering a second before she gives in to slumber, that Oliver didn't even protest when she said she was calling it a night, and covered them both with the blanket she keeps draped over her couch.

*

They both call in sick the next morning because Felicity refuses to move from the couch where she's snuggled into the blanket and Oliver's legs are trapped underneath hers, so he gives up his half-assed try at wiggling out and tells her to wake him up when she does. 

(She doesn't and instead sends Diggle some pictures of him asleep. She scribbles some moustaches and a few ridiculous eye masks on a few of them with an app on her phone, and later Dig will show her he set one of them as his lock screen. She takes out her phone and dissolves into laughter as she shows it to him; "Me _too_!")

**5**.

Felicity hates heat. 

Well. She hates the heat that suffocates her, the still air that makes her skin damp and sticky. She hates how it doesn't go away, even after she's showered and tried to fan herself, even resorting to using her tablet after her electric fan broke. She wears skirts in December and she _can_ tan. She just doesn't want to.

She likes the server rooms and the foundry because they both have a stellar air cooling system; she tells Oliver just that one night when he asks if she's not cold, him and Diggle both sweating profusely after a long evening of wrestling and practicing with eskrima sticks.

She shakes her head, "No no, I'm fine, I don't like the heat that much." She explains and goes back to her computers, and Oliver to his sparring, although not without a last glance her way.

With time, she learns that there is a kind of heat she likes.

It's a unique warmth Oliver brings, usually right after getting back to the foundry on his motorcycle, where she's enveloped by crisp leather and cool finger pads, chapped lips and the offensively icy tip of his nose. It warms up her body, slowly, and it's different from the smothering heat she can't stand.

She hadn't realised, at first, how much his hand on her shoulder affected her. She realises later that it doesn't leave a spark or a shiver up her arm; no, that's usually the look he gives her after saying her name in a quiet whisper. She realises what he leaves behind is how warm and safe his hand is against her, how that light squeeze he gives her is meant to imprint just that and let it spread through her.

After a while, she gets so comfortable with it, so attuned to it, that she tries hard to remember what those first touches were like. When she's afraid of forgetting, she just grabs his arm and hand and wraps it around her shoulder-- it's not exactly the same, but she has the added bonus of being able to cuddle into his side, and as much as she doesn't want to admit she's cold, the foundry does get pretty drafty in the winter.

There are little things like that she keeps noticing, now that she's closer, much closer to Oliver, and that he doesn't refrain from touching her like he used to.

One of the first things she knows he noticed, is how she keeps her hair in a ponytail because her nape is extra-sensitive, and she doesn't want to have to shift her hair every five minutes while she's working. She knows he's noticed because he likes to play with her hair sometimes when she's explaining how she got into the latest database he asked her to hack. He probably isn't hanging on to her every word, but his hand at her nape is proof enough that he's paying attention; to _her_.

Of course, whenever she's tense, it's like Oliver's bat-like hearing focuses solely on her and the really disturbing sounds her neck makes when she stretches and it lets out some painful-sounding _cracks_ ; and the feel of his warm hands massaging her neck after a long day should annoy her, especially with how fast he gets there, all soundless footsteps and silent looks.

Except it doesn't, it releases some of the tension there (he always tells her to sit up straight and she always rolls her eyes, because her posture is 40% of her hacking skills, there is no way she's changing that _now._ )

It sends little jolts down her spine and crackling sensations up her neck; warmth seeps under her skin, goosebumps and shivers leaving a trail that Oliver knows to follow.

She doesn't dislike it.

**+1**.

Oliver detests jogging.

It's not at all the fact that running is exhausting - actually, he welcomes that exhaustion more than anything. He's also got very, _very_ good stamina, so no, it's not that.

Oliver doesn't like jogging because it usually means that he's running alone, and that he's running alone with his thoughts.

And while Oliver preferred it that way for a long time, - most of the time, actually, ever since he came back from the island - he finds he craves human contact more than anything now. It may or may not have to do with a very blonde IT girl.

He'll never admit to it, no matter how many times Diggle shoots him a knowing look or throws a snarky remark his way.

He's thankful on the days Diggle proposes they go for a run together, because Diggle talks a little from time to time, cutting his train of thoughts that inevitably bring him back to the island; to so many of the horrors from the past years he wishes he could stop dreaming about.

Once Diggle brings it up; how Oliver will willingly climb that salmon ladder of his three times a day or beat up a dummy until his knuckles bleed but will always be reluctant to go for a run. He does it because he has to, but enjoying it is another matter altogether, and he tells Diggle that.

Diggle nods, and it's like he understands that he can't push him to give him a more detailed answer. Maybe he knows how sparring and focusing on every muscle in his upper body takes his mind off of things, while running just brings everything back to him. That there isn't enough to focus on, or too much, and it's not what he wants to deal with just then.

When Oliver starts staying over at Felicity's, he realises two things.

One, that she makes him forget about a lot of things. He's not sure if it's how she always has something to say, something to share with him, all bright eyes and excited hands flailing about. Or how she looks at him when he's getting out of the shower, and it's usually followed by a smile and her dimples, like she's not seeing the scars; just him.

Two, that the way she holds him makes him feel safe. It makes him want to share some of the things that weigh on him; and even if it's in the middle of the night and he's just had a nightmare, and she's holding him even more tightly than she normally does, wiping stray hair from his sweaty forehead and shushing him as his breathing slows down, she'll listen. She'll nod and he'll feel her chin brush again his temple, and he'll talk, sometimes with broken words and a constricted throat.

He's not really sure he's able to express how much he relies on her. How much she soothes parts of him he thought were numb with pain.

So when Felicity starts to jog every day - he doesn't ask why, or why _now_ , though he has an inkling it's not unrelated to their night time activities and recent encounters with some of his past in the form of Slade Wilson - he joins her.

He goes at her pace, and after a few weeks of them running in silence, a comfortable routine they both fall into, one day she stops halfway through. Slightly out of breath, she faces the sunrise over the harbour with her hands on her hips. 

He stands behind her, watching the light soften the city's edges briefly. He'd rather look at her than the harbour.

"Dig said you hated running." She says on a ragged breath and turns her head around, and it's difficult to see her features so he steps towards her.

He shrugs. "I don't love it." He simply answers, and she cants her hips just so, a frown on her face, and he desperately wants to pull on her fuchsia headband to rile her up even more.

"So why do you run with me?" She says, and he recognises the eagerness in her voice to get to the bottom of this. She _really_ can't stand not understanding something.

He purses his lips for a second, looking at the horizon, and then back at her. 

"You make jogging enjoyable." He says simply, and she pouts, her eyes squinting slightly.

He wants to say "You make me think of happier things" and "The sound of your breathing chases away the constant silence of the island" but he doesn't.

Instead he gathers her up in his arms, and she raises herself on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, _tightly_.

"I really don't hate you." He murmurs into her hair.

She laughs against his neck.


End file.
